


Do You Have a Moment to Talk about Him of Many Faces ?

by AryaxJaqen



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Falling In Love, Fluff and Humor, Jaqarya, Older Man/Younger Woman, Religion
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-06
Updated: 2017-07-06
Packaged: 2018-11-28 18:02:02
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,004
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11423235
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AryaxJaqen/pseuds/AryaxJaqen
Summary: Arya Stark felt a great disturbance in the Force after she turned sixteen ;)





	Do You Have a Moment to Talk about Him of Many Faces ?

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you will enjoy this little fic :)  
> I own nothing

'Excuse me, do you have a moment to talk about the Drowned God ?'

 

A man at the door was rather handsome, tall and thin, his eyes were fierce black, his arms and calves were covered in tattoos. He looked familiar but Arya couldn't remember where she saw him. The water was dripping from his long dark hair. Arya guessed he walked straight from the beach. The man looked at her with a gleam of interest in his eyes. The girl bit her lip. She thought that one day she would break her rules and stop borrowing her brothers' clothes. She cringed inwardly at the idea of shopping with Sansa and her fashionable friends. She decided it could wait. The man wasn't  _that special._

Syrio's black cat circled around the girl's delicate ankles. The cat's silken fur gently caressed her skin. Arya dreamed about the cool waves of the sea washing over her legs. It was a hot summer day. She wanted to go swimming but Syrio was very serious about her training routine.

 

'I'm very sorry, I'm not interested in your religion' Syrio shot a glance at the small glass bowl the man was holding 'And I don't want to buy a goldfish' He added quickly.

 

Syrio closed the door just in time to stop the curious cat from jumping to the precious little thing the man held in his tattooed hands.

 

'Cat' He spoke to the cat softly 'Why are you always so naughty when Arya is around ?'

 

Syrio gave the girl a stern look.

 

'What did I do ?' Arya was all innocence.

 

'Come, boy!' Syrio shook his head 'We're only wasting time!'

 

Arya bit back a grin. The cat followed them to the patio where they used to train on sunny days. It was a nice place, with beautiful red roses planted around and a small fountain in the center.

Arya loved her lessons with Syrio. She loved to hang around his house. Syrio's beloved cat had become her good friend, they often ravished the contents of her mentor's fridge together.

She'd rather stayed with Syrio and the cat to avoid the long afternoons of embarrassment at her own home when she witnessed Sansa flirting with that horrible Joffrey or trying on her new clothes.

The school wasn't much better. Arya ran to Syrio's right after her classes to shake off the boredom of the long hours of what professor Sparrow called the proper education.

The kids at school were not much of a true pack to the girl.

Hot Pie and Walda used to skip some of the classes to sit around the cafe across the street from their school and taste all the pies they were serving there. Gendry spent hours playing his bass guitar at their music teacher's, professor Beric Dondarrion, garage. They started a band _Brotherhood without Banners_ along with pastor Thoros who lived next door. Gendry's girlfriend, Willow, was a lead singer. Everyone in the band seemed to follow Willow's commands ordered in her raspy voice. Gendry kept on writing songs for her, mostly romantic ballads that she eagerly turned into punk songs. Arya thought the girl was a terrible singer but no one dared to say it aloud. Even Lommy, who mocked Arya's short turquoise dyed hair constantly, remained quiet when Willow was singing. Thoros once suggested to stick to the instrumental pieces but Willow didn't take his advice. It took Beric, Gendry and Lommy to stop her from kicking Thoros out.

Yes, Syrio's house was a peaceful place where Arya used to train, eat and hide from the world. The girl spent hours in Syrio's library after her strenous fencing classes. She always picked the adventure books, the rogues stories were her favorite, and to Syrio's displeasure she chose to occupy his favorite plush chair with the cat purring happily in her lap. Her mentor murmured about keeping two ungrateful cats under his roof but Arya only smiled at that, she knew he liked her company. The girl was his favourite and most gifted student and Syrio Forel was her favourite and most praised teacher.

Everything was perfect until that summer. Her lessons with Syrio began more frequent. Syrio decided she was ready to take part in the fencing tournament at Harrenhal in the fall but she had to work harder. Arya was proud that her mentor trusted her that much. She had dreamed about the Harrenhal for years but to her surprise she couldn't fully focus on fencing anymore.

She started to notice the boys were looking at her whenever she showed up at the beach or at one of Sansa's countless parties. Some of the boys were actually quite nice to her unlike Lommy and that stupid Joffrey. Tommen, Joff's cute younger brother walked her home a couple of times. Lancel, Joff's cousin complimented her on her beautiful grey eyes. Theon, her brothers' friend said her legs were too pretty to hide them in Jon's old military pants.

It was the first Friday of June, their new neighbour was just moving in, when Arya thought, for the first time in her life, that it wouldn't be that bad to wear a dress once in a while. Yes, she could try some dress. Not one of those sequin beaded things Sansa was so crazy about but something simple, comfortable so she could still climb the trees. Funny thing, she hadn't seen their neighbour since that Friday afternoon. And it was three weeks ago. The whole three weeks...

 

'Arya, child !' Syrio clicked his teeth together 'You were not seeing !'

 

Arya felt the cold steal touched her arm.

 

'I'm not a child !' She protested. 'I'm sixteen !'

 

'You will be like a little child to Obara Sand !' Syrio lowered his sword 'Do you want Obara to take the trophy ?'

 

The doorbell rang again.

 

'I'll get it !' Arya offered quickly.

 

She was afraid she had no chance to win the tournament. She didn't voice her doubts though, she knew what Syrio would tell her _fear cuts deeper than swords !_

 

'Do you have a moment to talk about the Faith ?'

 

'Lancel ?!' Arya eyed him head to toe. He was wearing only a tank top and bermudas. She noticed he had sand on his feet.

 

'I'm helping professor Sparrow' Lancel explained blushing. He clenched a wad of leaflets in his hand.

 

'On the beach ?' Arya furrowed her eyebrows.

 

Syrio's house was pretty close to the Beach Boulevard. Arya saw the people in the street, most of them were heading to the beach. There were many summer street festivals around the city and the best one was just round the corner. Arya had ignored it for a long time until, on one afternoon, a disturbing vision appeared in her mind when she was sitting in the weirwood tree in their backyard. She wasn't spying on their neighbour, not at all, she was hiding from Sansa and her babbling circle of friends. The vision that played in her head were strong lean arms cradling her small frame, full lips curled into a smug smile, long red hair with a funny silver strand tickling her face...It would be a nice gesture to show the new neighbour around the town. _He did smiled at me smugly when I watched him parking his car._ Arya smiled at the memory and then frowned again. Seven hells ! He caught her staring at him while he was parking his car !

 

'Would you join us ?' Lancel waved his leaflets at Arya.

 

'What ? The Faith ?!' Arya raised her eyebrows at him.

 

'You have the most expressive eyes I have ever seen...' Lancel stopped when he realized he actually said it aloud.

 

His face was the colour of the roses that grew in the patio. Arya blinked. She thought for a moment she saw her neighbour's red hair among the crowd across the street behind Lancel's back.

 

'I'm sorry' Lancel added rapidly 'I have to deliver those to all of the houses here' He gestured towards the street 'I'm going back to the beach later. They all are already waiting for you. Hot Pie and Walda, Tommen, your sister, everyone. The gig starts in an hour.'

 

Arya almost felt the cool breeze on her face.

 

'Who's playing ?'

 

'Beric and the Brotherhood !' Lancel announced happily, relieved that Arya didn't notice his slip.

 

'That's it ?!' Arya winced.

 

Shouting Willow wasn't the best choice to keep the handsome dude in town. _Stupid, do you think he would even go out with you ?_ Arya bit her lip.

 

'There will be many others later' Lancel tempted 'Some bands from the North...'

 

'Boy ! Boy ! How many times do I have to tell you I'm not interested !' Syrio materialized behind Arya.

 

'I'm sorry Mister Forel' Lancel bowed apologetically.

 

'Don't be sorry ! Don't come ! Unless you want to train with this one' Syrio patted Arya's arm.

 

Lancel glanced at the girl and blushed again. Arya wasn't even aware he was looking at her, a plan started to form in her head.

 

'Don't be ashamed boy! You'd been one of my best until that old fool Sparrow snatched you'

 

Lancel gave Arya the last hopeful look before he excused himself and Syrio rushed the girl back to the patio.

The cat was waiting for them, basking in the warm rays of the afternoon sunlight.

Arya picked up her sword, she took a moment to admire the sun glinting off its blade, and took her stance. Syrio nodded his approval. Arya attacked and Syrio parried _quick as a snake_ with precise skill but she wielded her sword expertly. She moved through every counter blow _swift as a deer._ Syrio was right, she thought. She had to be _calm as still water_ and wait in their tree, no, on their porch, _quiet as a shadow_ until _he_ would be back from work or whatever _he_ was doing.

She stopped. She didn't even know what he was doing. Even Sansa didn't track him down and seven hells did she try !

Arya heard a clang when her sword fell on the tiled floor.

 

'Boy ! What are you doing ?!'

 

'I'm not a boy ! I'm a girl !'

 

'Boy, girl you are a sword, that is all !'

 

Arya picked up her sword. She made one stupid mistake after another, Syrio would never let her go to the beach if she kept failing.

 

'Syrio, can I ask you something ?' Arya wiped the sweat off her forehead with the back of her hand.

 

'Ask anything you want but you must listen !' Syrio frowned 'You have every chance to beat each of the Sand sisters, Arya. But you must listen !'

 

'Do you think I should return to my natural hair color ?' Arya uttered.

 

The girl was waiting for her mentor's reply with a pounding heart. She trusted Syrio, he never lied to her. Syrio didn't answer right away. Something weird was happening to his face. Arya couldn't tell was he about to scold her for ruining her lesson or to burst out laughing. She never learned that because the doorbell rang for the third time that afternoon.

Arya ran to open the door. She thought she needed a shower, the water would calm her down and help her think her plan through. Syrio and the cat followed her in quiet companionship. Arya wondered briefly why her question left Syrio unable to speak. The bell rang again echoing softly in the house when the three of them reached the hall.

Arya opened the door and saw a man standing in front of her. The cool breeze played with his long red, shiny hair. Little Cat was at the man's feet in an instant, she let out a low purr when she snuggled against his ankles. Very nice tanned ankles. Arya opened her mouth but she forgot what she wanted to say. She closed her mouth. She bit her lip. The man looked at her, amusement danced in his grey eyes, he flashed her a disarming smile.

 

'Excuse me, do you have a moment to talk about Him of Many Faces ?'

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading, lovely people !  
> xoxo  
> D.


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